Chapter 204: The Devil’s Trial Pt1
About an hour before the trial, the palace felt heavy. The halls were filled with whispers, and even the servants walked more quietly than usual, as if they too feared what was about to happen.
Inside her chamber, Lydia stood in front of her tall mirror. The rays of the morning sun fell across her face, painting her skin with a soft glow. Her reflection stared back at her, but it did not look like a woman heading for judgment. She looked like a queen ready to step into a hall full of admirers.
She wore a royal purple gown, the color bold and commanding. The fabric hugged her waist tightly, the corset pulling her posture tall and proud. Diamonds glittered on her neck, her ears, her wrists, catching the fading light. Her hair was sleek, perfectly straight, not a single strand out of place. If someone walked into the room without knowing the truth, they would have thought she was preparing for a ball in her honor.
Xenia, stood a little behind her, twisting her hands nervously. Her voice shook as she whispered, "You look beautiful, Your Highness. Too beautiful, actually. I fear the senate may not like it."
Lydia’s lips curved into a small smile. "That is the point," she said calmly. "They expect me to come to them weak and broken, like a woman begging for mercy. But I will not give them that pleasure. I have to show them I am not weak, that their little game has no effect on me."
Xenia swallowed hard, not fully convinced, but she bowed her head. "Yes, Your Highness."
Lydia’s heart was beating fast, though her face betrayed nothing. She held her chin higher, telling herself again and again that this was the only way.
In another part of the palace, Ivan stood before his own mirror. His reflection showed a man trying to steady himself, but his hands betrayed him. They trembled slightly as he adjusted his uniform. His jaw was tense, his breath heavy. The trial weighed on him like a stone pressing against his chest.
He wanted, more than anything, to run to Lydia’s side. To tell her that they should leave all this behind. To take her hand and escape before the senate tore her apart. But it was impossible. If she defied the czar’s orders, her fate would be sealed in an instant. Disobedience in court meant ruin, and perhaps even death.
Ivan closed his eyes tightly and took a long, shaky breath. He forced his hands still, forced himself to turn away from the mirror, and stepped out of his chamber. Each step toward the courtroom felt heavier than the last.
Far away, at the Andreyevna estate, Elena walked hurriedly up the path to the front door of her father’s house. Her face was pale with worry, her skirts gathered in her hands so she could walk faster. Just as she was about to knock, she saw another figure approaching. It was her sister, Anya.
Both women stopped, staring at each other with the same anxious eyes, as if they had both been driven here by the same thought. They sighed, recognizing their shared fear.
Before Elena could lift her hand to the door, it opened. Their father, Alexander, stood before them, already dressed to go out.
"Papa," Elena and Anya said together.
Anya looked at him closely. "I came to talk to you, actually. But you seem in a hurry. Where are you going?"
Alexander’s face was grave. "I am headed to the palace. I need to see the czar."
Elena’s heart sank. "It’s about the trial, isn’t it? It was announced this morning. That is exactly why I came as well." She glanced at her sister, then back at him. "Let us hurry."
The three of them left together, none of them speaking much on the way. Each was trapped in their own silent prayers.
Ten minutes before the trial, Vladimir was already making his way toward the courtroom when Alexander, Elena, and Anya arrived. They stopped him quickly, bowing respectfully but desperately.
"Your Majesty," Alexander began, "I know it is not my place to speak, but please. This is too much. She will be ruined by the senate. Please reconsider."
Vladimir paused, his eyes unreadable. "It is already too late," he said coldly. "The trial will begin at any moment. I advise you to go back. Or, if you must, watch the trial. But know that nothing will stop what has already been set in motion."
He left them standing in silence. Elena turned to her father with trembling lips. "What are we going to do?"
Alexander shook his head slowly, his eyes dark. "I do not know."
Now, in the czar’s courtroom, the grand trial began. The great hall was filled with tension. The senate members, seven in total, sat on one side. Their robes of authority gave them presence, but their faces showed open disdain, even before the accused appeared.
Vladimir sat elevated above them, on his throne, the weight of power heavy on his shoulders. To his right sat Olga, her eyes sharp, waiting like a hawk for a chance to attack. At Vladimir’s left, was Ivan. His face was calm, but his hands were clenched tightly in his lap.
At the center of the room stood Lydia.
When she entered, gasps moved through the chamber. She glided to her place in her royal purple gown, the diamonds around her neck sparkling like fire. Her head was high, her steps graceful. She looked like a queen who had come to rule, not a woman on trial.
Alexander, Elena, Anya, and Anna stood at a distance, watching with hearts pounding.
Vladimir rose slightly and addressed the court, his voice heavy and commanding. "The trial of Her Royal Highness, Grand Duchess Lydia Andreyevna Romanova, shall begin. The senate has brought forth their accusations. They will be heard today in my presence."
He turned to the senate. "You may speak."
One of the senators, an older man with sharp eyes, stood. He bowed briefly to Vladimir before speaking. "Your Majesty, we come before you with grave concerns. Her Highness’s behavior in recent times has forced us to ask that she be dismissed from her position. Her actions have insulted the order of this empire and shaken the respect of the nobles."
Another senator nodded firmly. "The first matter concerns the law she signed in Svetlana. This law, declaring that any man who divorces his wife must share half his wealth with her, and still remit ten percent to the grand duchess. This is nothing but sabotage, Your Majesty. An insult directed at the noblemen of Svetlana."
Murmurs of agreement spread through the senate bench.
Vladimir’s expression did not change. He turned to Lydia. "Do you agree with this statement?"
Lydia lifted her chin proudly. "I do."
Her voice was steady, clear.
"Then why?" Vladimir asked.
Lydia’s eyes did not waver. "Your Majesty, I did it to protect the noblewomen who were and who will be unjustly cast aside by their husbands."
Before she could continue, Olga leaned forward sharply. Her voice cut through the air. "Unjustly? What are you talking about? It has always been our way. If a wife cannot fulfill her duties, she may be set aside. Who are you to change that?"
Ivan shifted in his seat, wanting to speak, but his hands tightened into fists. He stayed silent, fighting himself.
Lydia’s eyes turned cold. She looked directly at Olga. "Then that means His Majesty has every right to cast you aside, doesn’t he? Because last time I checked, you do not fulfill your duties as a wife."
Olga’s face froze. "What?"
Lydia’s tone sharpened. "So, should His Majesty cast you aside and leave you penniless after you have stayed with him more than half of your life? Does that sound fair to you? No, it doesn’t. So think about it. How does it sound, hm?"
She turned to the senator who had spoken earlier. "And you, my lord. You have a daughter, do you not?"
The man hesitated, then answered, "Yes. I do."
"Then think about this," Lydia continued. Her voice softened, but it carried even more weight. "If you died, and your estate was left to your son-in-law, what happens if he one day decides to cast your daughter aside because he grew bored of her? What happens to her then? She would be left on the streets, begging, while you turned in your grave."
The senator flushed red. "Excuse me—"
Lydia did not let him finish. "If I were you, I would petition His Majesty to make this law for the entire Zolotaria. Because in the end, I did nothing wrong. I only protected women who were innocent, who were being cast aside due to the lies and cruelty of their husbands."
She looked at Vladimir, her eyes glistening now with quiet pain. "Your Majesty, I beg you to understand my reasons. I did not sabotage anyone. This law will reduce the cruelty of unjust divorce. As a woman who has already suffered from it once."
At those words, Ivan looked away, his throat tight.
The room was silent for a moment. Then Vladimir nodded slowly. "Very well. I understand."
Olga scoffed loudly.
Another senator stood quickly. "Your Majesty, if I may, we bring forth the second matter. The grand duchess has hosted balls, knowing full well that the previous czar died from poisoning at a ball. Such an act is an insult to the late czar and to tradition."
Voices rose in agreement. "Yes, an insult! Shameful!"
Lydia waited until the noise calmed. Then she spoke with a steady voice. "I meant no insult. Besides, it has been eleven years since the late czar’s passing. Are we to mourn him forever? He is gone. We cannot bring him back."
The senators shouted angrily. "Look at her! No respect! Outrageous!"
Vladimir lifted his hand, and silence fell again.
Olga leaned forward, her voice low but sharp enough for Ivan to hear. "Her arrogance will bring her down."
Vladimir turned his eyes to Lydia. His voice was colder now. "Your Highness, do you realize what you are saying? You insult the late czar, my father, in my presence."
Lydia looked back at him firmly. "No, I am not."
Vladimir’s tone hardened. "I beg your pardon?"
Her voice grew stronger. "The late czar is dead. We cannot bring him back. But neither can we mourn him forever. Hosting balls has been Zolotaria’s tradition for two hundred years. Zolotaria was always a land of color and trade. But for the last eleven years, we have been nothing but a cemetery. No foreigners come to visit. No investors. Even weddings feel like funerals. That is not the Zolotaria the late czar would have wanted. That is not what any of us should want."
She paused, her eyes bright with conviction. "And besides, there is no law that bans the hosting of balls. Since I began hosting them, Svetlana has seen a massive increase in foreign trade. Life has returned to the city. Joy has returned. That is all I wished to bring back. I hope you understand my reasons, Your Majesty."
Vladimir studied her for a long moment. Then he said, "Very well."
The senators exchanged looks of frustration, scoffing among themselves. They had come to tear her down, but Lydia stood taller with each accusation.
She smiled then, cold and sharp, her eyes landing directly on Olga.